


THE EAGLE'S GIFT

by omg_okimhere



Category: None - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 07:32:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11249187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omg_okimhere/pseuds/omg_okimhere
Summary: This is an ethereal  thing I wrote maybe ten years ago.  It is geared to a fandom, but stands alone without cognates.





	THE EAGLE'S GIFT

  _He is near_ , she thinks, closing her eyes. _I can feel it.  
_ _  
_ The golden rays of the setting sun wash across the ochre rocks, bathing her soft brown skin and raven locks with the desert's unique light. She does not question what she feels. Though she lives the life of a modern woman, the old ways lie within her also. At times it can be both a blessing and a burden - this Gift of Sight passed from her grandmother, to her mother, to her. Yet always must she follow its path.  
  
She sends her spirit out in the form of her totem. Soaring high above the land of her ancestors, the eagle bears her essence on graceful wings, circling ever higher on the warm currents of dry air.  
  
Soon the keen raptor's eyes spy a lone and lowly campsite, in the shadow of a red cliff face. Piercing the air with a cry of triumph, she tucks her wings and plummets earthward, then banks with precision, releasing a single feather from the fan of her wingspan.  
  
It floats slowly, magically, to the ground.  
  
*******************  
  
Like a summons, the eagle's voice brings him from his tent. Donning the weathered hat that lies at the doorway, he squints into the westering sky, just managing to catch a glimpse of the majestic bird as she climbs back to the heavens.  
  
_A good omen_ , he says to himself, recalling the time he spent amongst the Sioux Nation, and the traditions he learned there. _The eagle is always a good omen.  
_ _  
_ He turns to re-enter his canvas shelter, intending to retrieve his camera, but his eye is caught by something at his feet. Dropping onto his haunches with the ease of a much younger man, he is captivated to find the eagle's calling card.  
  
Almost reverently, he raises it to the lengthening light, parking his headwear in the sand to bring the variegated quill closer for study. With the barest of touches, he caresses his palm upwards along the feather's length. Closing his eyes, he grazes his face with its interlocking softness, burning the sensation into his memory. He gazes again at its translucent perfection. He marvels at its exquisite balance and beauty - delicate yet strong, like the being it came from.  
  
_It is a gift_ , he realizes with conviction and gratitude. And he carefully tucks his gift into the band of his hat.  
  
****************  
  
Miles away, worlds apart, she feels his touch as though in a trance. She surrenders her spirit to the moment, to the window that opens between them.  
  
_Yes, he is near_ , she whispers, in joy, in sorrow. _So near.  
_ _  
_ _And yet so far._


End file.
